


Rendezvous

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Secret Relationship, Surveillance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:51:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7358287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>East and West Germany secretly meet in a hotel. Hungary gladly waits on the sidelines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rendezvous

East Germany's fist muffled his burst of laughter, lest any of the other guests got wind of what was going on. It came out hoarse, a choked little sound that resembled a balloon spluttering its last breath, which might have struck one as the furthest thing from joyful, but the reality couldn't be more different. The truly funny thing was that he could have been crying all the same, except that he had years of practice in the art of putting on a smile like he had nothing left to lose. He smiled his way through surveillance, censorship and shortages, if only to show _them_ that they weren't going to break his spirit, and he smiled now with all the more reason.

"Don't speak like that in my presence ever again," he said with a chuckle, touching his lips to West's shoulder. His was a rich flavor, just like a fresh, exotic fruit would taste to a castaway after going half a life without it.

"Fine," West said, laying off the Bavarian he had used as part of his disguise. There was an allure to his body as it was now, sun-kissed skin and a farmer boy's look, oozing health when all that East had to show for his troubles was the sharp contrast of skin draped over ribs—he had been skipping meals on account of being too busy, he had told West. East had pictured him in a tailored, finely pressed suit, but West had come to him like this not to arise suspicion, even if _they_ should know by now, God, _they_ should know. Still, he thought it was worth it. West had let his hair grow an inch, and it was wonderful because it got caught between East's fingers just right. His hair color was slightly different as well, not like East remembered from his childhood but darker, like the color of leaves in early autumn. He was stunning like this too.

"I've missed you. Should I even say that?" East got to say between kisses. He spoke when he should be catching his breath because West, greedy capitalist that he was, was sucking it all the air from his lungs. "God, this feels good, I've missed you so fucking much."

"Shh," West cooed, and did a thing with his tongue that took him completely off guard and made him wonder, vaguely, if he had been looking at pornography of the filthiest kinds. They didn't have those things in the East, but the FRG did, so he imagined that West had been taking notes and cramming like a dutiful student to fuck him beautifully. He was succeeding, as was the case with everything when it came to West.

West thrust as though he was trying to pierce the Anti-Fascist Protective Wall with all the might of his decadent capitalism—East would have laughed at his own joke here, but West thrust good and he didn't have the means to fill his mind with anything else. He thought, _Holy fuck, yes,_ and twisted the sheets in his fist as if he were a little bird that had just caught its pray. His eyes stung too, but he wasn't going to let his feelings get in the way of spending a good time. And then West did _this_ thing, and his fingers parted East's lips and made him suck on them, and it was absurdly great. After spending so much time apart, he felt complete.

They lingered close, caught in one another. His cheek was warm against West's heart—the rhythm was like that of a longcase clock, strong and perfect, and for a moment he truly thought they were in another time, sharing a moment's peace among the blood and the grime of each war fought. "Shower?" East whispered, because it was almost time for West to leave and he wanted to delay his departure in any way possible.

West touched his body in slow, loving strokes under the water, so unselfconsciously that it filled him with wonder. East was missing so many things about him by being unable to defect, but there was nothing he could do about it except keeping each detail alive within his memories. _One day,_ he thought, and it sounded like a promise. _One day there will be no Wall._

He buttoned West's shirt for him afterwards, each movement precise and seamless. West appreciated the symmetry of his method. At least, when it came to that, neither of them had changed. 

"We'll see each other again."

"Yes," East said, and although he wanted to sigh, he forced himself to give him his best smile instead. "Yes. Balaton Lake, next summer."

They kissed, and then West climbed out the window before he lost the courage, his silhouette lost in the night. There was such emptiness after he left, it was always the same. East needed to rebuild himself from scratch each fucking time, to rise from ruins, but that took a while and he didn't want to be alone right now. 

He knocked on the door that connected both rooms and went inside—Hungary was lying on her bed, listening to music. She sat up as soon as she saw him enter and patted the empty spot next to her. He climbed on the bed at once.

"Happy?" Hungary asked softly, touching his face. 

He nodded, because he was happy, or rather, he had been disgustingly happy just a little while ago. Now he felt like they had torn a piece out of him, but he was all about playing it cool. "And you? I thought I would find you with your ear pressed to the door or, you know, looking through the keyhole."

In answer, she hit him in the face with a pillow. "I'll have you know that I'm a _lady._ I'm not some sort of crass, garden variety voyeur, and I've been here listening to music to block anything from your exchange because you boys deserve your privacy. I have something called _imagination,_ " she said all riled up, and he held his hands in front of him to placate her even though he was about to burst laughing.

"What is even a crass, garden variety voyeur?"

"France?" Hungary offered, still a little miffed.

"Oh yeah. The description fits him to a T," East said, thinking of all the things that had been a constant in their long, long lives. France's ridiculous appetite, Spain's good spirits, Italy's sweetness, hell, even Austria's prissiness. "I kinda miss him sometimes?"

"I don't, but I see what you mean. I wish I were allowed the option of missing Romania, because then he would be far away and I still wouldn't ever miss him," she said, her lips curling into a mischievous little smile. "But hey, enough of that. Did you enjoy yourself tonight or what?"

"Best lay I ever had," East said, and he didn't know when exactly they had started to share those kind of things, but being stuck in the same hellhole had dulled the sharp edges and mended the tears on their friendship. At first he had thought they would kill each other, but they had only come stronger out of this. He was thankful for her kindness.

"It won't be long, East. My fence is starting to fall apart on its own. Before either of us know it, I'll be strolling along the Ringstraße on my way to meet him," Hungary said, and although he still found Austria to be a dubious subject to get excited about, he liked it when her eyes looked this bright. "And you'll be back home with your brother in no time, just you see."

"Say it again," East told her, and she placed her hand on his. 

"It won't be long. Mark my words."

He didn't return to his room but stayed put until it was early in the morning, after which they collected their things and left the hotel. She was holding his hand on the way home, the only warm thing in a drab world so unlike West's, and before he could pull himself together, his chest began to hurt, his shoulders started to quiver. On top of that, there had been a car parked just outside the entrance, which was following them now.

Hungary took notice at once and pulled him against her, wrapping him in an embrace. From the distance, childhood friends looked like lovers. East was facing the showcase of a closed shop, his back facing the street, but he could still see the light of the headlamps as _they_ passed them by and the sound of the engine became a distant memory. The air was crisp. And Hungary's hold was strong even as he shook all over, her arms a shield.


End file.
